Deserve
by meetmeatthecoda
Summary: Written for tumblr prompt: "You love me as if I deserve you." Early morning Red and Liz fluff. Also, Liz has a present for Red. Established relationship Lizzington.


He is awoken not by an alarm or rays of sunlight but by his Lizzie peppering his face with kisses. It is the best way to wake up, he's discovered. And in a way Lizzie is, at times like this, both an alarm and the pure personification of sunlight. She would scoff if he told her that but he firmly believes it's true. They are now in an exclusive romantic relationship and they have been for some time and she is just... exquisite. Red would never have dreamed this would happen to him, with _Lizzie_ , but he thanks whatever god may still be listening every day.

As it is, Lizzie is still gently pressing kisses to his unshaven cheeks, patiently waiting for him to join her in the land of the living.

"Good morning, sleepy-head," she whispers.

"What time is it?" he rumbles, without opening his eyes.

"Still early, don't worry," she replies. "But you need to get up."

"Hmmm," he hums, "You know, I would consider it but I'm just not sure it's worth it, you see." He teases her, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh yes?"

There is a challenge in her voice and he can't wait to see what she does next, he's sure she will surprise him. Doesn't she always?

She doesn't let him down. The next thing he knows, Lizzie is swinging a leg over him to straddle his lap.

His eyes fly open to see her perched happily atop him, a certain air of triumph about her, framed by the soft sunlight peeking through the gap in the curtains, wearing only his dress shirt from last night and a smirk.

What could he possibly have done in his life to warrant this? Surely nothing, he can't be worthy of her. Not by a long shot. So how in heaven's name did he get this lucky?

"Is this enough incentive for you, Mr. Reddington?" she taunts, breathily.

"Oh, I suppose so." He says, sighing a long-suffering sigh, the effect of which is only slightly ruined by his wide smile.

She beams back, pleased with herself, and leans forward so she is resting her chin on top of her hands on his chest.

He thinks he will never tire of looking at her beautiful face.

"And to what do I own this rather pleasurable wakeup call this morning, my dear?" He asks quietly, not wanting to disturb the peacefulness of the moment, bringing his hands to rest on her waist.

"Well, first of all, I couldn't wait to see you." She says, shrugging as it that were obvious, evidently not knowing that her words made his heart swell with love for her. "Secondly," she continues without missing a beat, "I have something for you."

"You have something for me?" He repeats stupidly, a little lost in the endless blue of her eyes.

How are they so blue?

She giggles and he tries to commit the sound to memory. It sounds like happiness.

"Yes, silly. Wait right here."

All of a sudden, she's gone from on top of him, jogging from the room, his shirt falling just to mid-thigh. He cranes his neck, trying to make the most of the view before she's gone. He may be the luckiest man on the face of the earth but he's not stupid.

He stretches his arms above his head, groaning softly into the empty room. He hopes she won't be gone long. He cherishes these early morning moments with her, just the two of them, close and warm and happy.

But luckily he doesn't even have time to miss her before she's running back into the room with something hidden behind her back. She quickly reclaims her place straddling his lap and his hands reclaim their place at her hips and the world rights itself.

She looks at him for a moment, her cheeks a little red from her hurrying to and from the room, and bites her lip. His eyes zero in on the action, and he wonders if she'd let him get away with a few good morning kisses before she gives him whatever she wants to give him. But she moves too quickly for him, pulling her hands out from behind her back and placing a small, square box topped with an even smaller red bow on his chest.

He goes a little cross eyed trying to look at it and she laughs.

"Here, sit up and open it!"

She moves off of his lap and back to her side of the bed, settling into his side while he automatically puts an arm around her, doesn't even notice he's doing it because it feels so natural, and picks up the little box to peer at it curiously.

"What's this, Lizzie?"

"Well, you have to open it to find out, dummy!"

He rolls his eyes, pretending to be annoyed with her teasing, while he's truly anything but because she's here next to him in bed and of course she can call him whatever she wants, and she squirms under his arm, excited.

He pulls the tiny bow off the top of the box and quickly sticks it to her nose before she can protest. She huffs in surprise and then laughs again, pulling the bow off and swatting him playfully on the chest. He chuckles, pleased with his quick reflexes, usually she's faster, the little minx, and he opens the box.

Inside are a pair of gorgeous, old-fashioned, silver cufflinks.

"Oh, Lizzie," he breaths, stunned.

"I know you have a million pairs but I thought these could be from me and whenever you wear them, you can think of me. Do you like them?" She is babbling a little, which he thinks is incredibly endearing, like pretty much everything else she does. How she can think he won't love them, he'll never know. They're from her so that automatically means he'll cherish them forever, silly girl, doesn't she know that he adores her?

"Oh, Lizzie, I absolutely love-"

He stops abruptly, squinting at the cufflinks. What are those markings there? Oh. Oh, she had little red Rs engraved on them and that's easily the sweetest thing he's ever seen.

"Do you like the engravings? I know it's a little heavy handed but I thought they were cute. You can always get them taken off it you want. Do you like them?"

"Lizzie, no, of course I love them, sweetheart. Thank you so much." He breathes, still amazed. "But what's the occasion?"

"Occasion?" Lizzie wrinkles her nose, confused.

"Yes, occasion."

"There is no occasion," she says simply. "I just wanted to." She shrugs as if it's the most normal thing in the world, to give such a thoughtful, personalized gift to her criminal boyfriend for no apparent reason. She just wanted to. God.

He gently closes the box, puts it carefully on the night stand, and then yanks her into his arms, burying his face in her shoulder, willing himself not to cry, because he has to at least pretend he's a grown man not completely unarmed by a small token of his girlfriend's love, doesn't he?

"Red!" She squeals, delighted. "Wait, what's wrong?"

She pulls back from him, putting a hand on his cheek. Oh, he's putty under her hands when she does that, and she knows it.

"You do like them, don't you?"

"Of course, Lizzie, I love them, thank you."

"Then what's wrong?" She asks, baffled.

"It's just... Lizzie, I..." he sighs, knowing she won't like what he's about to say. "You… you love me as if I deserve you." he whispers raggedly, pulling her as close as he can.

"Oh, Red." Lizzie whispers back, putting both hands on his face now. There are tears gathering in her eyes and she places her forehead against his.

"I love you because we deserve each other. Please try to remember that."

And she kisses him. He kisses her back fervently, trying to convey the depth of his love for her. He thinks she may understand because she sighs into his mouth and sinks down against him, smiling against his lips.

And he offers a promise to whatever god cares enough to listen that he'll spend the rest of his life trying to deserve her.

He can't wait.


End file.
